


Don't Wake Me Up

by QueenVegas



Series: Unbroken [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7901242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVegas/pseuds/QueenVegas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a small town girl enters Middle Earth after a traumatic event, she finds not only a purpose but a calling. She joins the Fellowship, determined to make the best of a dangerous situation. Now up against very real threats, she is forced to live, learn and adapt, or die. After meeting a certain elven prince, she finds that some things are worth fighting for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Don't Wake Me Up**

**Chapter 1**

**Where I Belong**

I stare out at the rain as it slides down the glass pane and collects on the outside of the window before dripping to the ground. It's refreshing-the way the rain brings life to the land and keeps people inside-away from me. My reflection stares back at me from the dark window, lacking the colour that defines me. My dark brown hair looks streaky and uneven. My hard grey eyes look devoid of life. My skin looks pale instead of the light tan that comes from my Italian heritage. I look like a ghost. Then again, in some ways I am one.

As I stare out the window at the gloomy forest, a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. Even now, with the cold rain of early spring, it's beautiful. It's got a dark beauty to it, and a beauty that most people seem to have little taste for. I am tempted to venture out into it, perhaps bringing with me my bow or my dagger.

As a small town girl, thus hunting is just a part of my life. I live right on the edge of the woods, and often venture out into it to hunt. I find it tasteless to kill things without a purpose and often shoot only small rodents and vermin that will become food for something else. Any larger game I usually sell to the butcher and the pelts go to various buyers. Despite that, I often will stalk my prey only to let it go. There is something about killing a living creature that gets to me.

I continue to look out the window, noting the little motions that signal an animal's presence. I glance at my bow which rests in a case with my dagger, missing the freedom that accompanies the forest. The cool, refreshing crispness in the air, the way the sun and stars seem to shine more brightly, and the way everything feels alive. I turn from the window, knowing that to stare at the outside world will only make me long for it.

I tried to live out there once. Two years ago, although I couldn't make it outside of civilization. Without certain amenities, one can get by for a time. But only for so long without proper training and preparing. I don't have the knowledge to survive for more than a month or two and continue to remain healthy.

I step away from the window, intending on returning to the warm comfort of my couch. I detour, unable to resist the allure of my bookshelf. I walk towards the large oak shelf, running my fingers along the spines of old books. I pick one up, thumbing through it. A Wrinkle In Time, by Madeleine L'Engle. A classic, and an old favourite of mine. I smile, skimming a random page of the adventures of Meg. I replace the book on the shelf, choosing instead The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Book in hand, I wander over to my couch before lying down on it and turning on the small lamp on the stand beside it. I open up to the first page, recalling the way this particular tale captivated me.

I hear a knock on the door and look up, wondering who it could be. I stand, laying my book down and walking towards the door. Whomever it is knocks again and I remember that I ordered a pizza. I hurry up and unlock the door before opening it and inviting the delivery girl inside.

"Well, it certainly took you long enough," the girl says. I smile at her words, embracing my friend Leah. She, having been the first friend I made in this town and my current best friend, makes the short trip to my house quite often. Sometimes bringing a pizza at the end of her shift for the two of us to enjoy while watching a movie. She returns the hug with one arm, the other holding the pizza. I take the pizza from her and hand her the payment and tip for it.

"Sorry, was just lost in thought for a bit. Would you like a slice before you go?" I ask, setting the box down on my table. She shakes her head.

"No. Thank you though. By the way, Jared told me to tell you not to worry about the shop tonight. He's got it." She explains and I nod, admittedly somewhat relieved. Jared and I co-own a small bookstore and while I was supposed to close tonight, it seems he is taking my shift.

"I wonder what he wants..." I trail off and Leah smiles, knowing that if he is taking my shift by choice he wants something. She shrugs.

"Anyways, I have to go. Stay out of trouble, yeah?" She flashes me a teasing smile before turning to leave. "I'll catch ya later Els!" She calls over her shoulder before walking off.

I smile at her retreating figure, glad to have her as my friend. She runs to her car and I shut the door behind her, each of us trying to avoiding the rain in our own way.

I look back out the window, my thoughts returning to the dreary world. Despite the grim sky, it is still beautiful. A small light catches my eye and I stare, curious. I suspect children as the culprits, as they often play in the edges of the woods. It's odd that they would be playing there in the rain though.

The light vanishes and I wonder if perhaps I made it up. I stare intently and notice a small light flash a little further back. I doubt it's any of the kids because they usually don't venture that far from their houses. Unable to contain my curiosity, I grab my dagger and a poncho before heading out into the rain.

My dagger is long and I use it for defensive purposes. In case of a bear or worse, I have something close range. It is made of ten inches of stainless steel. The grip and pommel are another six. It's a very large knife and I am competent with it, having learned basic knife play as well as some basic martial arts.

I pull the door shut beside me and head around the side of my house and into the woods. I search for the light, hoping that it isn't my neighbor's kid with a flashlight. That wasn't what the glow looked like though, so I am curious as to what it could be. I spot it off to the side and start heading into the woods, following the odd light. It keeps flashing, always a bit ahead of me and I walk faster, wanting to keep up.

I see it again and this time it doesn't go away. I walk up to it and see a small ball of light. The rain passes right through it and I stare intently, fascinated. That's when I notice what's behind it. A large mirror stands behind the light, old and antique looking. It's beautiful. I step by the light to look at it.

The glass is dark and within it, I can see a figure. It's a woman, around the same height as me. Her hair is like mine, falling just past her shoulders but braided and kept in a ponytail. She is staring at me, her eyes blank and she looks sick. She looks oddly like me and I can't help the shiver that runs down my spine. I try to turn away from the mirror find I can't. I find myself caught and adrenaline begins to pump through my veins. I stare, caught like a rat in a trap and unable to turn away. She beckons me closer and I find myself taking a step towards the mirror, unable to resist the siren call.

My fingers touch the cool glass against my will and I feel something shift. My palm is pressed flat against the glass and my muscles lock up, preventing me from getting away. She slowly walks closer on her side of the glass and I start to notice little differences. Her face is more angular and her cheekbones are more prominent. Her hair is a shade lighter than mine and her eyes are more blue than grey. She looks close enough to me to be my sister though-which doesn't stop the dread I feel as she approaches. In fact, it seems to be more pronounced. I try in vain to scream or run, or break contact from the mirror. She only comes closer. I feel an icy hand touch mine as she touches the mirror and suddenly she is pulling me though. I'm aware of screaming, though I'm not sure who it's coming from.

I wake with a start, sitting up in a full panic. I'm lying in a soft bed, in a quiet room. The only sound is that of my breathing, which is frenzied and sharp. I take in the room, looking at the carved white bookshelves, the small table in between them, the cedar vanity, the tall dresser and the closed door, preventing me from seeing outside my room. There is a large window off to the side of the room, with lemongrass and strange purple flowers on the ledge. Their name eludes me, and they look unfamiliar. Almost like a rose but with daisy-like petals. Peculiar, but pretty.

I sit up, trying to figure out where I am. I feel a bit light headed and use my arms to brace myself so I don't sway. Where am I? What happened to me? I look outside, past the flowers, and am confused. There's a garden, and the tall trees behind it. It's beautiful and nothing like anything I've seen in the town.

"Oh! My Lady, you are awake..."

I turn, not having heard the door open. It's a woman-slender and beautiful. Her eyes are the colour of honey and her hair is long and straight, a golden blonde that compliments her eyes. There are four braids in her hair, keeping it out of her face while still framing it, and coming together behind her head. Her skin is very fair and her lips are a light shade that matches her light appearance. Her features are refined and smooth. Who is she?

"Where am I?" My voice is a bit shaky and I sound weak.

"You are in Imladris, my lady." She replies, closing the door behind her and walking towards the dresser. She opens it, retrieving a light blue dress and matching elbow length gloves. From the shoulders falls an elegant draping cloak which appears to be purely aesthetic. The dress looks soft and darker blue swirls decorate the cloak, back, and shoulders of the dress. It's beautiful but it doesn't look much like something you'd find in a town like mine. Then again, I can tell I'm in a very different place from the name.

Where have I heard that name before? I struggle to recall. Have I been kidnapped?

"May I help you into this, my lady?" She asks.

I nod, distracted. I look down, noting that I am wearing only a breast band and underwear. I blush, not having realized my lack of modesty. I find it immensely odd that I'm not wearing a bra, and my blush deepens as I realize someone must have put the articles on me. I slowly stand from the bed, my legs shaky, and allow her to help me into the dress. She brushes her hair back behind her pointed ear and I stare, a mix of emotions swirling within me. She can't really be an elf. With the dress finally on, she looks at me, noting my look of surprise and confusion.

"Are you alright, my lady?" She asks, concern entering her eyes.

I stumble through a slew of responses and try to think of something sensible to say. Then it clicks. Imladris, elf ears, I remember why it sounds so familiar. It was an elven city in Middle-Earth. But if that's true, why am I here? That was a book.

"I'm fine-just a little disoriented." I stick with something safe, trying not to make a fool out of myself if this is a joke.

"Very good, my lady." She speaks formally, and I feel a bit uneasy. Perhaps she thinks I am something I'm not. What if this is all some big joke? Or worse, what if it isn't?

"Please, call me Elsira if you would." I decide to try and get back on common ground by having her use my name instead of saying "my lady". She nods and I find it a little easier to breathe. Familiarity is good right now.

"Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you. It would not be wise to delay his wishes, Lady Elsira."

I'm already too shocked to really be affected by the knowledge that a possibly real elven king wants to speak to me, and I just nod. The woman leads me from the room and I find the halls just as beautiful. There is a high, vaulted ceiling and arches that smoothly blend into the hall. It's gorgeous, and I reach out to touch the stones. It's too real, and I know not whether to question my consciousness or my sanity. As soon as I enter the room, I know it's him.

His face has an ageless quality and his hair is the color of the darkest of shadows. His eyes are grey and speak of great wisdom. I stand, staring like a fool at him. Could this be real? The elven woman curtsies and then leaves, her head bowed in respect.

Lord Elrond motions for me to follow him and we head into another, smaller room. I spot a tall old man with a long gray beard and kind eyes. He is tall and imposing in a way, and seems familiar. Why do I know these people? They seem so familiar and yet I remember them as if from a dream. Faces lacking names. I think back, trying to recall more about The Lord of the Rings, and the books I read so long ago. It's been six years at least.

"Why am I here?" I ask uncertainly, not sure what to think. A slight twitch of Elrond's lip that resembles a smile catches me off guard.

"That is what I was going to ask you. One of our guests found you unconscious in the forest. You had no markings or papers of any sort on you, and we had no way to find out who you are or why you are here. The only clue was your appearance which matched that of a nomad's." He says smoothly, his voice strong and commanding. There is wisdom and strength even, it seems, in the little things he says.

"Start with your name." The old man says, and I realize with no small amount of surprise that the man is Gandalf.

"My um, ah. My name is Elsira." I stutter, unable to hide my surprise. "I'm afraid I don't have any answers, Lord Elrond. I don't know how I got here. I'm not even from Middle-Earth."

Elrond arches a brow, and Gandalf nods. I look to them, not knowing what else to say. I expect someone to pop in and tell me it's a joke, but they seem so serious. I feel sick, a growing suspicion telling me that this is no joke.

"She speaks the truth. She is from a faraway place. I believe she has yet to see an elf until today." Gandalf's voice is nothing like I expected. I expected it to be slow and contemplative. Gandalf's voice is strong and powerful, and I have no doubt that he is quite an interesting fellow.

I shake my head, admitting that I have never seen a real elf.

"How can that be?" Elrond asks, brows scrunched as a look of confusion takes its place on his face. "How can you never have seen what you are?" His words stop me cold and my eyes widen.

I stare, not daring to breathe lest I divulge the extent of my terror. Did I hear him wrong? I look to Gandalf, and he reaches back to a table before handing me a small mirror. I look at my reflection, noting pointed ears and an elegance and smoothness to my features that was not there before. I reach up to feel my ears, and sure enough they're pointed. I look just like the woman I saw in the mirror. I sit there in shock for a long time, trying to get a grip on what I've just learned. Sure I've always wanted to be an elf, but to actually BE one? I can't believe it. This can't be happening. This must be a dream. This can't be real.

"I'm not an elf... I mean, I wasn't. I'm not really, am I?" I stare, not knowing what to think or feel. I don't care how I look anymore. If someone tells me it's a joke that I've fallen for and everyone laughs I would just be happy to know it isn't real.

Elrond looks as though he feels a bit bad for me and Gandalf returns the mirror to the table. I feel faint, and try to get a grasp on what I've just learned. This is real. All my life, I've dreamed of going to a faraway place with elves and sword fights and magic spells. But that's all it ever was and was ever meant to be-a dream. Back there, it was a struggle to feel as though I belonged, but what if I don't belong here either? At least there I know I'm not alone. There are people like me and people who understand. If this isn't a dream, I can't just wake up when I die. There is no promise of a happy ending here. If this is as real as I am afraid it is, I am terrified. I could be killed by an endless number of things here, whereas back home there were about ten.

"My lady, are you all right?" I realize that my breathing has become rather erratic, and I try to calm down. A small elven boy rushes in and whispers something to Elrond. He nods, and the boy runs off.

"I'm afraid I have some rather important business to attend to, excuse me." Elrond stands and leaves the room. Gandalf looks at me quizzically, examining me.

"Elsira, I know that you are not from here, but would you mind telling me everything that led up to your coming here?"

I nod, trying to figure out where to begin.

"I was alone in my house. It was raining, and a storm had been raging all day. I saw a light but then it went away." As I speak, I find myself remembering all the little things. The window pane, the book I was reading, the pizza... "It reappeared, and I decided to go after it. I wanted to know what it was. I brought only a knife with me, and headed out after it. I wasn't worried because I was always in those woods, but then the light led me to a mirror. It was huge and beautiful..." I pause, remembering the mirror. The way it gleamed in the dim light and it's otherworldly beauty.

"There was a woman in the mirror. She looked like me but she wasn't me. She pulled me towards the mirror and when she touched the mirror, she touched me. I blacked out after that and, well, here I am." I trail off, looking at him with the wide eyes of a deer in the headlights.

"Will I ever go back Gandalf?" My voice sounds small, and almost childlike.

He shakes his head slightly, and the reality of it sinks in. I'm not going back. No more movie nights with Leah, no more late nights at the bookstore, and no more curling up with a book on my couch on long rainy days. It's all gone. I think then of all the things I won't miss. No more pollution, no more cars, no more big cities, no more incurable diseases, no more bombs, no guns, and no more people killing people for the money in their pockets. This world is both better and worse than my own. I don't want this world though, I want mine where things make sense. Where I have a life. Just then the woman from before enters the room and curtsies to Gandalf before turning to me.

"Do you need something, Nyania?" Gandalf asks. That must be her name. She nods, turning to look at me.

"Lady Elsira, there is someone who wishes to speak with you."

I look to Gandalf who motions for me to go before allowing her to lead me down the hall and into another room, this one larger than the last. Inside stands a tall, broad shouldered man. He has shaggy brown hair with flecks of grey and stormy grey eyes. He has an air of strength and nobility about him, and I find myself admiring him.

"Greeting my Lady, my name is Aragorn." I stare for a long moment at his eyes, admiring the intelligent gleam in them.

Why would he want to speak to me? Wait, if he's here… What exactly has been going on? I haven't read the books in years, so I only vaguely remember the story. But I pictured every character, imagined their voices, and every move they made. I remember their faces, but to see them, living and breathing, right in front of me? It's amazing. I realize that I haven't told him my name and flush with embarrassment.

"It's nice to meet you Aragorn, my name is Elsira. May I know your reason for seeking me out?" My tone is very polite because if I recall correctly, Aragorn was royalty. I also cannot help but find him incredibly attractive, and I can't help but want him to like me.

"It was I who found you, my lady. I wanted to know if you were all right." I hear concern in his masculine voice and try not to blush again.

I can't believe he actually took the time to track me down just to make sure I was okay. It is flattering to think that such a man truly thinks me worthy of his time.

"I'm fine thanks to you, and I appreciate your concern. Can I ask you something?" He nods. I want to try and figure out what is currently going on without giving too much away.

"Might I ask about the hobbit? Someone mentioned him, and said that you might know more" I speak cautiously, trying not to reveal too much. I hope that he has already met Frodo. He nods, and I hold back a sigh of relief that I didn't mess up.

"Ah, yes. He is recovering quite well."

It's somewhere in the first book, though for some reason I cannot seem to recall much about it. It's getting harder and harder to recall my life before coming here. Recent events I can remember with ease, but things from the distant past slip from my mind like sand through clutching fingers.

Just then, a halfling man with bright eyes and wavy brown hair walks by the room. He stops, having seen Aragorn and me, and returns to the doorway. I suspect that this is Frodo, judging by his slender build. His smiles when he sees Aragorn, and then his eyes turn to me. I see pain in his eyes, a pain that should not be in the eyes of one so young. He smiles brightly and the pain is gone, replaced by easygoing happiness. He is undeniably handsome and seems very relaxed, though I cannot help but think of him as childlike.

"Greetings m'lady, my name is Frodo."

I can't help but smile at how young and happy he seems. Even in my present situation, where I don't know much of anything, the people here can lift my spirits and bring a smile to my lips. He bows slightly and I see a glint of gold tucked away in his shirt. That must be the Ring. I tear my eyes away from it, not wanting to dwell on such a dark thing in my present state of unease.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Frodo, my name is Elsira." My happiness returns. I smile at the hobbit and watch as he leaves the room. Aragorn turns to me, his eyes scouring me for every nuance of emotion and measuring my reaction.

"He carries a great burden that many men twice his size could not carry." Aragorn says quietly, as if I knew of that which he spoke.

Coincidentally I do, but he doesn't need to know that. Not yet at least. Gandalf walks into the room, capturing our attention.

"Aragorn, you are needed for a council, and perhaps Elsira should come as well. Elsira, why don't you tell Aragorn where you're from? I believe it might be prevalent sometime soon."I nod, and the three of us begin walking as I tell my tale. Aragorn listens intently and Gandalf adds a few comments here and there for clarification. On our way there, I see a breathtakingly handsome elf.

He has long blonde hair and gorgeous eyes. His skin is fair and his features are refined and as close to perfect as they could be. His pointed ears mark him as an elf, and then his eyes meet mine. I stutter over my words for a moment and forget what I was saying.

I blush, unable to tear my eyes from the man before me. He is incredible, and a name flits through my mind. It's his name, Legolas.

I tear my eyes away from him and continue my tale, trying to act as though nothing happened though Gandalf and Aragorn both noticed my reaction. I play it off as best I can but in reality I cannot get my mind off of him. He's already gone, but I'll see him again. I'm sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Don't Wake Me Up**

**Chapter 2**

**More Than Meets the Eye**

Aragorn, Gandalf and I reach the place where the council will meet, and find that we are among the last ones there. It seems to be separated by race, as elves, dwarves, and humans sit with only their own people. Or perhaps it's just by group. Either way, there is obvious tension.

As I take my seat at beside Frodo, I can't help but look for Legolas. I scan the council members, spotting him quickly between a few other elves. I'm the only woman in the council, though I don't believe anyone has noticed me. I continue to observe the people around me and a few stick out. One that I notice is a stocky, broad shouldered dwarf with a large reddish brown beard that he obviously takes great pride in. If I recall, he is one of the members of the group that escorts Frodo to Mordor. He sits proudly, head held high, with an axe by his side and armour bearing the crest of the people of Durin. I'm not sure how I know that, it just popped into my head.

I notice a human almost directly across from me. He sits apart from the rest of the council and I recognize his more haughty attitude. He's tall, and his features are more refined than the dwarves, but less so than the elves. His face is fair and noble, and he has lighter hair that falls to his shoulders and grey eyes. He wears a fur lined cloak and has a horn edged with silver upon his lap. His fine clothes are slightly stained from his travels. He looks serious, and seems a bit self-imposed. People like him have rarely seen eye to eye with me, but I doubt I'll say enough here to put me at odds with him. I probably shouldn't say anything at all, considering that I am an outsider.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

That snaps me out of my trance. I watch him lay the Ring on a stone pedestal, and note that the eyes of all focus on it. I try to listen as the council convenes, but much of what they say is lost on me. People and places I've not heard of are tossed about in conversation and I find it easier just to look at the Ring. The Ring that is the sole cause of all this clamor and commotion. I stare intently at the golden band, captivated by it. It's beautiful in a way. The light reflects so perfectly off the golden, gleaming metal and the script on it is so elegant and mesmerizing. It's beautiful.

The man across from Frodo and myself stands, stepping towards the Ring. I focus on him, paying attention to him more so than the Ring. He looks threatening, the way he stands yet he speaks of wielding the power of the Ring for his people and against Sauron. How could he? He is just an average man, and he would most likely be consumed by such power. It should be left with Gandalf or...

What if I can use it? What if that's my purpose? I came here for a reason, perhaps my reason is to use wield the power of the Ring and defeat Sauron. I clutch the arms of the chair, imagining the might and power I could wield with ease were I to use the Ring. Why would it affect me? I'm not biased, nor am I even from Middle-Earth. I could take it, and help everyone. I could show them that whether I'm an elf or a human, I can do something to help.

"Elsira!" Frodo whispers.

I look away from the Ring and notice that I was gripping the arms of the chair hard enough to turn my knuckles white. It was the Ring, it has to be. I know better than to think that if I should interfere with any sort of magic ring, particularly one notorious for its sentience and ability to shape and sway its users. I am not special, of course it would affect me. After all, who am I but a fish out of water? I relax a bit, the tension from before fading fast as Frodo slowly takes his focus from me back to the council. I should stay out of this.

"Boromir!" Cries Elrond angrily.

Ah, so that's his name. I missed why Elrond was yelling though, and my eyes shift to Gandalf as he stands. He begins to chant in another language, one that I find sounds dark and menacing. The sky grows dark and thunder booms overhead. The man returns to his seat hastily, and Elrond turns on Gandalf. The rage in those twilight eyes is like nothing I've seen so far. It's unnerving, and the council is so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"Never before has a voice uttered words of that tongue here in Imladris!" Elrond's eyes are filled with unbridled rage, and his voice is raised I glance away from him, unable to force myself to look upon the rage of the powerful elf.

He is a king, and with that title comes a certain capability when it comes to intimidation. I force myself to look upon the scene once more, facing the anger of the elven lord. I turn back around just in time to see the dwarf I noticed earlier leap to his feet, axe in hand. I must have missed something major.

"Then what are we waiting for?" He raises his axe above his head and brings it down upon the Ring before I can scream for him to stop.

There's a loud crack and the dwarf is suddenly on his back, his axe shattered. He shakes his head and stands, uninjured. The Ring lies where is was without a single scratch on the golden band.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, with any craft we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast into the fiery chasm from whence it came. And one of you must do this." Elrond's tone sounds like one of agitation and I cannot bring myself ignore my feeling of concern. It isn't my fight, and I should not get involved.

As I stare at the unscathed Ring, I realize for the first time that I have seen a display of power. Anything else would have shattered or at least been scratched, and yet the Ring remains perfectly intact.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor." I listen as Boromir starts to tell the council reasons why the Ring cannot be destroyed.

As he lists reason after reason, I finally decide to step up and say something. Maybe it isn't my place, but someone has to do it and I'm not one for sitting idly.

"Look, we can list endless reasons why something cannot be done, but that does not change the fact that it MUST be done." I say coldly, standing and looking him in the eye.

The council falls into a brief silence as I stare him down, and I begin to wonder if it was not my place to speak in such a way. I push my doubt aside and remain unflinching, for what's done is done and I don't intend to back down now. Legolas stands, siding with me.

"Have you heard nothing of what Elrond just said? The Ring must be destroyed!" He says angrily, agreeing with Elrond that there is no alternative.

"And I suppose you think you're one to do it? " Gimli stands as well, his shout aimed at Legolas.

"And what if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" Boromir says heatedly.

Everyone notes the 'when' instead of 'if'. He clearly does not believe that the attempt to destroy the Ring will succeed.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf! Never trust an elf!" Gimli yells, ignoring Boromir.

The elves are instantly on their feet at that, and the dwarves are quick to follow. The argument becomes a chaotic uproar and I glance over at Frodo. His eyes are glued to the Ring. My eyes turn to the Ring as well, only to see flames flickering within the golden band as if it were reflecting the chaos around It. Gandalf rises to his feet, his imposing figure commanding attention.

"Do you not understand? While we bicker among ourselves, Sauron's power grows! None will escape it. You all will be destroyed, your homes burnt and your families put to the sword." This shuts them up for a long moment.

Then they resume their bickering, yelling over each other. I glance back at Frodo who looks horrified, as though he can see something we can't. Then his eyes clear and he stands.

"I will take it." He says quietly.

He looks up and speaks again, louder. "I will take it! I will take the Ring to Mordor." His voice is strong and clear. I look at him, silently admiring the strength and courage it took to stand and take on that sort of task.

"Though… I do not know the way." His voice is quiet now, not loud and clear like a moment before.

Gandalf turns to Frodo, and I see what looks to be pity in his eyes for a moment.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf eyes the rest of the council wearily.

"Frodo Baggins, I shall aid you on your quest and protect you with my life" Aragorn kneels before Frodo, peering intently into his eyes like a father would his son. "You have my sword," Aragorn finishes.

He steps aside and Legolas steps forwards, standing before Frodo.

"And my bow." He adds.

Gimli steps forward as well. He takes a deep breath and puffs out his chest proudly before saying, "and my axe."

"If this is truly your path, then I shall walk it with you as well." Boromir says stepping forward.

I had not expected that. Perhaps there is more to this man than meets the eye. Out of nowhere, another hobbit runs up. He's plump with short wavy hair and a round face.

"Mr. Frodo! I've come with you this far, I'll not see you walk into danger without me there to help you!" That must be Sam.

He is followed by two more hobbits who look enough alike that they could easily pass for brothers.

"We're coming too!"

Lord Elrond's face is priceless. He stares at the three uninvited hobbits and then rubs his head, as if trying to relieve a headache. Considering all that has happened during this council, it wouldn't surprise me if he had a rather nasty one.

"It appears you all don't understand the importance of the words private council. You are not going to accompany them on their quest."

I can't help but chuckle at his words, and a smile touches the lips of a few others as well. Both hobbits are around four feet tall, and have round, childlike faces. One has a mischievous gleam in his eyes, while the other's eyes are full of determination. One's hair is longer than that of the other, but both have wavy brown hair.

"Then, Master Elrond, you will have to lock me in prison or send me home tied in a sack, because otherwise, I shall follow them! Besides, you need intelligence on this quest, adventure… thing." Says the one with longer hair and the mischievous eyes delightedly.

The other one hits him on the back of the head. "Well that rules you out Pippin." He says.

I laugh as the one named Pippin shoves the other.

"Shut up Merry!" Cries Pippin indignantly.

I can't help it, another laugh escapes me. Merry and Pippin are indeed their names, and I suspect these two could get the group in a lot of trouble. Lord Elrond nods, deciding that it isn't worth the argument. Before Elrond can wave us away, Gandalf speaks once more.

"Elsira will be accompanying us as well." My eyes widen, and suddenly I'm in the hot seat. All eyes are on me, and I feel somewhat ill. I can see a slew of differing opinions based on the way people are looking at me, though no one dares to question Gandalf.

Elrond dismisses the council and as people leave I approach him.

"What do you mean I'm coming with you. I don't fight! I don't do that sort of thing I'm just going to get myself, and possibly others killed." My words come out in a rush, and Gandalf smiles at me. I know he can see the terror in my eyes, though he does not seem perturbed by the situation he has put me in.

"You don't think you came here on accident, do you? When it comes to magic as dark and as powerful as what brought you here, there are no accidents." He says quietly. He turns, leaving me standing alone amongst the deteriorating council. I make my way back to the large, grand building I was first in, trying to look like I know what I'm doing. I don't. I do, however, manage to find my room.

I lie down in the bed I awoke in, trying to figure out what I'm doing. I close my eyes, a sense of dread settling in my stomach. I don't know how to fight past hunting and basics, and I don't like killing things. What am I doing here?

I open my eyes, staring at the ceiling as a thousand thoughts rush through my mind. Perhaps I should fake a sickness and get out of it. I shake my head before rolling over onto my side. I can't do that. Gandalf would know.

I realize quite suddenly how homesick I am. I miss my bed, my room that smelled of jasmine and vanilla and the beige curtains that were ugly but I loved so dearly. They were thick and kept the light out, protecting my grey eyes from the piercing light of the early morning sun. I miss the way the carpet felt against my feet as I got up in the morning, soft and thick and soothing. I rack my brain trying to recall the colour, and feel sick as I realize that I can't. I curl up, trying hard not to cry. I just want to be home. I feel the tears form in my eyes and find that I can no longer force them back. An awful tightness creeps into my chest as I shake from the sobs that escape me.

"Elsira?" I sit up, trying to compose myself.

I wipe my eyes, turning towards the voice. There stands Frodo, with his big eyes and a look of concern. Without saying a word he walks into my room, closing the door behind him and sitting beside me on the bed.

"You don't have to accompany me. I cannot ask that of you." He looks up at me, his eyes understanding.

I shake my head.

"No, I have to. Frodo, I cannot even begin to tell you my tale and even if I did I doubt you would believe it. Regardless, I came here for a reason and if Gandalf believes this is my reason, then it must be so. I can't back down." I try to explain through the sniffles and lingering tears.

He tilts his head, looking up at me. "Try. You may be surprised by what I do and don't believe." He looks up at me and there is depth that I have underestimated in those young eyes.

Then again, he is not so young. I only perceive him as such because of his size and youthful appearance. I shake my head, trying to figure out where to begin.

"I'm not even from here. Not from Imladris, not from this world. I'm from another that is very different than this one. I was brought here by... well, magic, I suppose. And now I'm here, and I'm losing my memories from the old world and I'm afraid. I miss my home and my old life. To be honest, I'm terrified." The words just fall from me as I confess my tale to him.

He takes it well, listening and nodding in understanding. Then he hugs me, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight. I freeze, surprised before hugging him back.

"Me too." Frodo says as he once more meets my eyes. "I grew up in the Shire. It's almost its own world, in a way. Most people don't even know Hobbits exist. And suddenly I'm here on this quest and I'm afraid. But I have to do this because if I don't, I'll have no home to return to." As he speaks, I realize just how similar we are.

Different races, but we share a rather similar experience of being taken from our homes and swept up onto some grand adventure we could've happily stepped back from.

"I won't back out now, Frodo. I gave you my word and I am going to keep it." He gives me a small half smile and I hear a knock at the door.

"Lady Elsira, may I come in?" I hear Nyania ask from behind the door. I wipe my eyes one last time and Frodo stands. He gives me a final small smile, an unspoken understanding now between us.

"Yes, please do." I reply.

Nyania opens the door and Frodo leaves. She steps into the room, not asking questions nor commenting on his presence. In her arms is a mess of reinforced leather I suspect will be armour when she straightens it out.

"Lord Elrond asked that I ensure you are outfitted properly and given any weaponry you require. I've brought some reinforced leather armour if you'd like to try it on."

I nod, thankful that Elrond thought of that. She lays it out on the bed and I see the various pieces and parts. I look to her and she seemingly understands, helping me change into it. It fits well and isn't overly restricting, allowing me a full range of motion.

"Does it fit well la- Elsira?" She catches herself, making sure to use my name.

"Yes, it does. Thank you Nyania." I smile and she nods politely.

She is no normal servant, and I suspect that the only reason she is presently employed as such is due to the council's presence and the amount of guests.

"Next, let's deal with weapons. Follow me."

She leads me from my room and down several halls until we reach a reinforced door. She unlocks it before pushing it open. Within lies a well-stocked weaponry with many kinds of swords, shields, bows, and other weapons. They all look to be of elvish make, with sleek and curved designs.

Looking around, I decide to start with what I know best and pick up a sturdy bow with a powerful but manageable draw. I walk out to the training field, following Nyania. She sits down on a small bench and I notice Aragorn standing off to the side, practicing his swordplay. I blush, already nervous.

What if I make a fool of myself? I look around, spotting the very thing I was looking for. A firing range. I step up to one of the marks, pulling an arrow from the quiver. I feel Aragorn's eyes on me and I try not to blush again as I draw my bow. I focus, breathing levelly before firing. The arrow flies true and hits the target, though not in the center. I cannot shake my pride though, pleased that I hit the target reasonably close to where I meant to.

"Not bad, but if you want I could give you a few pointers." Aragorn says from beside me.

I jump, my heart racing as I did not expect him. I look at him and nod.

"Yes please. I'd kind of like to survive out there." My tone is light despite the truth in my words, and he smiles.

I smile weakly and his eyes turn to the target. He takes my bow and an arrow and draws it, eyes turning towards the target. I note the nuances of his form and posture, and the way he breathes out as he releases instead of holding his breath. His arrow hits dead center and he looks at me, silently offering the bow to me. I take the bow back and draw another arrow, aiming.

"Elbow up a bit higher, and focus on keeping your breath steady."

I adjust and as I breathe out I release. The arrow flies true and hits the target in the middle circle. I turn to him, a smile on my lips. He nods in approval, and an arrow flies between us and splits mine. I stare at it before turning and seeing the handsome blonde elf from before.

"You could've just said hello..." I say dryly.

Aragorn's smile widens a bit and he greets Legolas with a wave and a hello. Legolas lays his bow down and takes my hand, bringing it to his lips.

"Forgive me, my lady. My name is Legolas. It is a pleasure to meet you, and may I be the first to welcome you to the fellowship." I blush hotly at his words and stutter over various responses.

"Oh. Um, I'm Elsira. It's uh, a pleasure to meet you..." I stumble over my words and my blush deepens. Legolas smiles, amused.

I turn towards Nyania and decide I've embarrassed myself enough.

"I'm pretty sure I need to go find a sword or something." I excuse myself, returning to the armoury with haste.

My face finally returns to a somewhat normal colour and I start trying to find a sword. Anything to distract myself. Judging by the reaction, or rather, the lack of reaction from the others there I suspect that was a fairly normal greeting that I just got very worked up over. I feel even more like a fool.

I wander around, picking up various long swords, rapiers, and scimitars and swinging them a few times. None of them feel quite right, and I put them each down in turn. I spot a sword over in the corner and walk over to it. I pick it up, marveling at how light it is. It's a thin blade, and the hilt is silver with engravings of flames that appear to travel up the sword, ending about three inches down the blade. I look it over and spot a word engraved on the blade. I murmur the word under my breath and the sword bursts into flames. I screech and drop it in a panic and Nyania pales.

I examine my hand and let out a sigh of relief, terrified that the thing had burned me. I slump into a chair and turn to Nyania, only to find her gone. I stand back up, confused. I look around and she promptly returns with Gandalf. He walks over to the fallen blade and examines it.

"Don't touch it. It's got some sort of black magic or a curse or something. I said the word and it caught fire." I say in a quiet warning.

Gandalf smiles and picks up the blade, paying my words no mind. I sit once more, watching him quietly as a smile crosses his lips.

"Oh no, it isn't cursed. You awoke the magic in the blade." He looks at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

I arch a brow, confused. "Excuse me?" I ask, not knowing what he meant.

Is it some sort of word people say to make a sword catch fire?

"My dear, you are a sorceress."


	3. Chapter 3

**Don't Wake Me Up**

**Chapter 3**

**From Dreams To Nightmares**

I sit, unable to process what Gandalf told me. How could that possibly be? I feel a mind-numbing terror grip my heart as I realize how terrifying my life is becoming. What if the magic consumes me? What if I become lost in it to the point that I turn from those I care for as I've seen so many people do? What if I'm not strong enough?

"Calm yourself." Gandalf looks at me, a solemn severity in his eyes. I take a deep breath, trying to breathe through the lump in my throat. It will do me no good to stress about this right now. What's done is done. Gandalf does not appear to be too concerned, therefore I doubt that I should be. With that thought in mind I focus on steadying my breathing and calming down. I close my eyes and try to rationalize to no avail. I slow my breathing, trying now just to breathe.

"The battle is half won now." I nod, my eyes still closed. I don't want this. I don't want any of this and I'm afraid. How can I be expected to remain calm when faced with this? When faced with huge, life altering events in rapid succession. I breathe in, holding the air in my lungs until they burn. I expel it, focusing on the next. I open my eyes and look up at Gandalf, unable to hide my fear. What am I?

"Before I teach you anything, I need to make sure of something." The severity of his tone causes a flutter of panic in my stomach like butterflies. I nod, knowing that I've little choice. I take another deep breath, trying to refrain from shaking like a leaf in the wind. Nyania is gone, though I don't know when she left.

Gandalf takes my hand and I feel a rush of energy. It surges through me, and suddenly I feel as though I'm being torn apart. I scream and writhe in his grip as my legs give out and my vision starts to fade. Ruins of an ancient city appear before me as I lose sight of the real world. A figure stands before me, tall and proud. The face of the person slowly begins to come into focus and then it's gone. I'm left screaming on the floor, writhing and losing my breath fast. I once more see Gandalf and the room we were in.

"What... What did you do to me?" I manage to get the words out through my clenched teeth and lack of breath. Gandalf pulls me to my feet and supports me as I try to gather enough strength to stand on my own.

"It is as I thought. Those with magic are incredibly rare, and one does not simply happen upon it. You are no natural mage. Your magic comes from prolonged contact with powerful dark magic and I suspect that if you don't control it, it could kill you or worse." The way he looks at me, saying dark magic, I feel as though he sees me as a threat. To myself or to others, I don't know. I'm reeling, trying to take in what he's said. It could kill me? What could be worse?

"You should rest. We start your training at dawn. We've not much time and none of it to waste." As if summoned, Nyania appears at the door. Gandalf looks at her and she quickly moves to my side, supporting me. I try to walk but am barely able to stand. Gandalf turns away towards a window and Nyania helps me to my room. She removes my armour and I collapse into the bed. Within moments I'm asleep.

I open my eyes and see ruins. They're massive, and look like the ruins of a city. It looks like what I saw before, but clearer now. The haze from before is gone. How did I get here? I catch a movement to my left out of the corner of my eye. I turn towards it, seeing shadows shifting and seething. I back away, but they don't relent. They're everywhere and I can't get away.

I feel power start to pulse through me. I shiver at the sensation, starting to convulse. The shadows close in, coming closer and closer. I feel them start to close in around me, boxing me in and pressing against me. The blackness is oppressive, holding me tightly in its clutches as a cold feeling envelops me, turning my blood to ice. I try to flee, try to break out and fight my invisible assailants. I scream, unable to escape the oppressiveness of the cold. It's agony, and I can't move. I shriek as I feel a sharp pain in my mouth. I feel drained and suddenly they're gone.

"This is what you could become." I see myself now. A twisted creature with grey skin and elongated canines stares back at me. Piercing red eyes gaze into my soul and I shudder. Beside the creature stands a woman. She has chin length blonde tucked behind one rounded ear, bright green eyes, and soft features. She's pretty, with a stronger jaw and arched brows. She wears steel armour and is carrying a long sword and a shield, clearly marking her as a warrior.

"This is what you could become if you lose control. Remember who you are, and you will always be strong enough." Everything goes black and I wake up with a cold sweat. I can't get the image of myself out of my head. It wasn't me, it can't have been me. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. I shudder, and Nyania rushes in.

"My lady, are you alright? I heard you screaming… Are you ok?" I nod, unable to speak. I close my, eyes, trying to calm myself. I open them a few moments later.

"Yes, I'm alright. What time is it?" I doubt I'll be able to go back to sleep. The curtains are drawn on the windows so I can't see out, which bothers me slightly.

"It's nearly dawn Lady Elsira." I nod and stand up. I should start getting ready for my training with Gandalf. I change into a simple tunic and pants. I tie my hair up in a bun and have Nyania bring me some breakfast. I finish it quickly and ask Nyania to go ask Gandalf where I should meet him. She walks off, leaving me alone. My thoughts return to my dream, and I find myself wishing I didn't have magic at all…

"My lady, he asked for you to meet him in the library." I nod and she leads me there. I see Gandalf sitting quietly at a table and reading a large book, the pages a creamy colour due to the age. Nyania leaves and I sit down across from Gandalf, unsure of what to do. He closes the book and looks up at me.

"Are you ready to begin your lesson?" He watches me with calculating eyes. I calmly nod, trying to not worry about messing up and hurting someone. Gandalf will make sure that doesn't happen. He stands and I, unsure of what to do, do the same.

"Then let us begin."

**-Legolas POV-**

A high pitch scream pulls me from my reverie, and I wake with a start. I sit up, unnerved by the shrill noise. I stand, grabbing my weapons and opening my door to look out. Down the hall, I see an elven woman rush into a room. I follow quietly, standing at the door so I am obscured from their line of sight. I see Elsira, who looks flushed and afraid. Perhaps it was just a bad dream, though it sounded as if it were a night terror. I return to my room, not wanting to intrude or be caught sneaking around.

I sit on my bed, my dreams slowly coming back to me. I shudder, closing my eyes as the memory of it torments my mind. It was another dream about the end, though this time there were faces. Aragorn, my father, and her. Aragorn is a seasoned warrior. He knows what he's about and knows the risk involved in such a journey. She, however, seems lost, confused, and very much like a fish out of water. I shake my head and lie on my back. She is no Tauriel, that's for sure. I doubt she should even be a part of the fellowship.

Still, the dream bothers me. It's always the same, starting with us standing by the fires of Mt. Doom. Right as we're about to throw the ring into it, I stop. I hold onto it a moment longer and suddenly my father is standing before me. He looks down at me, the way he did when I was a child and had done something I shouldn't have. Thranduil has never been known for his mercy or compassion. There was once a time when he was, but that time has long since passed. I was expected to be the perfect child, and I remember when I was trying to court Tauriel. The look he gave me then is one of disappointment and shame.

Then there are the bodies. There are bodies everywhere and they are always my people, those that I know. One always stands out to me though; that of Tauriel's. The woman I thought I loved, who never loved me. Everyone is dead around me and it's all because of the Ring. That one little ring that makes all the difference. This time it was different. This time, it was the members of the fellowship. They had faces and names, and while I barely know most of them, they were all dead because of me.

Aragorn was the worst. He is such a humble man and a good leader. He blamed me though, and knowing I had killed him was the worst of it. Then there was Elsira. She was barely alive, clinging by a thread and on her last few breaths. But she worked up the strength to tell me, "You let me die." I shake the thought from my head, knowing that she has to know what she's up against. Or maybe she doesn't. Gandalf could be wrong entirely in his thoughts of her, and he could be sending her straight to her death.

Her dying eyes were full of accusation... I sit up, not allowing myself to linger on it anymore. I stand and change into my armour. I grab my bow, quiver and dagger and head to the training field. I focus, shooting arrow after arrow at the targets from varying distances and angles. I put all my frustration into each and every shot, running and moving to let off steam. I can't dwell on such pointless things. If only my father could see me now, worked up over a dream…

"Something on your mind Legolas? I never manage to surprise you." I turn, bow drawn. It's Aragorn, and I quickly replace my arrow in its quiver. I unstring my bow, knowing that I won't use it again until we leave and knowing that I need to preserve its tension.

"I was just practicing." He raises an eyebrow.

"At dawn before you've even eaten breakfast? Come now Legolas, I'm smarter than that." I sigh, I've known Aragorn for some time, and he's trustworthy. Perhaps it would help to tell someone. I sigh, and tell him about the dream that has been assaulting my mind.

**-Elsira POV-**

I stare out the window, already tired despite only having learned a few low level spells. Things like minor forms of healing and shields. A few other minor incantations and a spell of light. Gandalf began teaching me my limits, and what I can and cannot do. With work, I should be able to become more powerful with less risk to myself. I am not sure I want that though.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I've been holding. I can see the training field from where I am. Legolas and Aragorn sitting on a bench discussing something. I can tell by the way they sit their tones are hushed and the talk is not one of a light hearted nature. Perhaps this would be a good chance to learn more about them. I leave the library, walking into the warmth of the sun to join them. They stop their conversation and look at me, sitting up straight.

"Lady Elsira, I hear you are a sorceress." Legolas is quick to change the subject of whatever they were discussing. Despite the peculiarity with which he addressed the situation I nod, suppressing my curiosity for now.

"Yeah, I seem to be... It's a lot to take in." I say, though the stress in my voice is more prevalent than I'd like it to be. Aragorn smiles softly, and the look is filled with sympathy. I wish right now that I wasn't deserving of such looks, and that I could better fight and defend myself. Legolas gives me a look of concern before regaining his solemn facade. Curiouser and curiouser, whispers a voice in my mind. A memory of a time not so long ago.

I close my eyes for a moment, the sun bright behind my eyelids. The warmth of the sun blankets me while a gentle wind caresses my face. I open my eyes, glancing between the two men.

"I've been working hard all morning, and was going to get some lunch. Care to join me?" Aragorn and Legolas nod appreciatively and Aragorn takes the lead. He knows his way around better than Legolas and I.

Aragorn quietly urges me to tell Legolas my tale as we walk and I shyly comply. I start at the beginning, trying to explain. Just as Gandalf did, Aragorn helps me explain. Legolas looks to Aragorn quite often, obviously not sure what to think. Aragorn nods each time, silently confirming my tale.

"You are braver than I thought, Elsira." Legolas states, his eyes on me. I don't let them see the pain that I feel, or the bitterness I harbor just for being here because they don't need to think less of me. To them, I should be brave.

The moment we enter the dining hall my thoughts are swept away. It smells amazing and my mouth waters. Legolas leads me to a table filled with delicious looking food, the likes of which I've never seen before. It appears to be almost a buffet, where everyone shares and tries some of everything. We sit off to the side of the room, the three of us apart from most others.

"Enjoy this while you can. We're leaving tomorrow." Aragorn says. He's eating slowly, and I suddenly become aware that I was eating ravenously, as if I hadn't eaten in days. Legolas looks at me, amusement twinkling in his eyes. I can tell he's trying not to laugh. I slow down, savouring each bite. I finish eating and lean back in my chair, content for now. Gandalf gave me an hour to eat and rest, and that hour is almost up.

"I'm afraid my time here is up. Gandalf gave me an hour before our work resumes and I would hate to make him wait. Doesn't seem like a healthy habit." Aragorn smiles at my words, amused. With that being said I reluctantly stand and take my leave. I find my way back to the library, where I see Gandalf waiting for me. It makes me wonder if he ever left. He looks up from his tome and then stands. He raises his staff before slamming it onto the ground making a loud noise.

"You'll need something equivalent to this staff. Your sword should suffice. Swords are generally used by battle mages and I expect that you will want to continue to use melee and ranged weapons as well." I notice the sword from before propped up against the table. How did he get that? I sigh, knowing better than to question Gandalf. I see him smile, as if he knew what I was thinking.

"Now, let's get back to work."

**-Legolas POV-**

Elsira walks away, leaving Aragorn and I. Frodo walks into the dining hall and Aragorn beckons him over. Frodo walks quietly over and sits down with us. He smiles at us, and he seems genuinely happy, despite the quest that looms over us. He grabs an apple and takes a large bite of it.

I am somewhat glad Elsira left, as the image of her in my dream kept reoccurring as she spoke. Aragorn is bad enough, but having the both of them there was a bit much. If her tale is true, then perhaps she has a bit more to her than I thought.

"Thank you… For volunteering to come with me." Frodo speaks, seeming a bit shy though I can see the gratitude and determination in his eyes. Aragorn smiles at the hobbit and I nod in acknowledgement. He seems almost childlike in his behavior; I can't help but wonder why he is involved in the first place.

He's risking his life to take a ring to the most dangerous place in Middle Earth so that it can be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom. And yet, he is no larger than a child and about as much of a fighter as one. But, simply by going on this quest he is braver than many seasoned warriors twice his size. Perhaps even more so than me. We shall see.

**-Time skip. Elsira POV-**

I wake with a start, a hand over my mouth. I look around frantically, but it's dark. I can see the general shape of my attacker though I can see nothing more. I kick out at them and they take their hand off my mouth. I leap up and can see just enough to notice that their hands are up by their sides, the universal gesture of peace. My eyes narrow.

"Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?" I hiss angrily through gritted teeth. I murmur an incantation and a ball of light shines in my palm, illuminating the room. It's a male elf. His hair is a reddish brown and tied back in a ponytail, and his eyes are a deep forest green

"I know who you are, and I know what happened. If you want to know, and you want to live, take this and keep it close." He holds something out in his hand, though my eyes don't falter from his. Not yet. I can tell by the look in his eyes he means what he says, although it's his sanity I doubt, not his seriousness.

"What do you mean, you know who I am? What happened to me?" This guy could be crazy, or he could know something important and possibly life saving. I can't take that chance. If he has something important to say, I need to know it.

"When light fails, and hope is lost, the silver moon shall light your path." My eyes narrow and I look at what he is holding out to me. It's a silver pendant in the shape of a crescent moon. The runes on it are like nothing I have ever seen and I look back at his eyes.

"Keep it close. It is more powerful than you can imagine." I watch him for another long moment before snatching the pendant from his hand. I watch him, stepping back before I start to examine the pendant as well as I can in the magical light. I look up to question the elf further, but he's gone. I look around and then hear the door creak open. I straighten, tucking the pendant into my pocket and look back towards the door just in time to see Nyania entering the room.

"Lady Elsira, Aragorn sent me to fetch you. It shall be dawn in less than an hour, and he has something he would like to discuss with you before we leave." I nod, putting my hair up and straightening my shirt. I retie the laces of my pants, keeping them tight around my hips. They're men's clothes, but they are better suited to my tastes for casual wear. Nyania leads me down the hall to Aragorn's room where I knock on the door before entering. The room is similar to mine, but larger and more decorated. Aragorn is sitting in a chair quietly, looking out the window at the predawn sky. Tinges of orange and pink have crept onto the horizon, and the sky is dark blue.

"Lady Elsira, you have learned a bit of magic along with your archery, yes?" I nod, waiting for Aragorn to explain further. I consider changing the topics to tell him what happened and about the pendant but I hold back, deciding to stay quiet about it.

"Indeed I have, though my knowledge is limited to say the least." He nods thoughtfully. He turns towards me and stands.

"I have sworn to protect Frodo with my life, and I shall do just that. But I'm afraid I can't always stay as close as I'd like. Elsira, I want you to protect him as well. Stay by his side as much as possible, even if that means hanging back from some of the fighting. He is the priority. More than any of us." His tone is solemn and his face is more serious than I've ever seen it. He doesn't seem to be asking me to do this just to stay out of the way, but more to protect Frodo, lest the ring fall into Sauron's hands.

"I'll do my best. I promise." I say gravely. I'll stay close to him at all times while we travel because without him, our quest is meaningless. It must be a hard burden to bear, carrying the fate of the world in your hands. I can't even imagine what that's like. He seems so happy and innocent though, as if shielded from all the evil in the world. Yes, I will try to protect him.

As I turn to leave, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn, and look Aragorn in the eyes. I feel like a child and glance away, fearing he will see my self-doubt. In truth, I feel like I will just let everyone down. I have no real combat experience, and I feel like all I will really accomplish is cutting my life short.

"You have come here from another world, and yet you risk your life to protect someone you just met instead of trying to get back home. Such astounding acts of compassion are rare, and I would like to thank you for what you have done and will do. Most people would turn tail and run, and many brave warriors would turn down a place amongst the Fellowship. You have shown much strength and courage already. Do not worry about letting us down, you have already proven yourself." I smile, feeling better. I wrap my arms around him, taking him by surprise and hugging him tightly. He seems surprised and I blush as I step back, trying to figure out what to say.

"Thank you." I say, my face flushed with embarrassment. He smiles and I take my leave, returning to my room. I open the curtains and peer out at the dawn sky. I can't stop thinking about his words. He is so kind and supportive. I am flattered that he would be so kind and understanding with someone like me. The way he smiled, Aragorn is undeniably attractive and that makes me blush a bit as I gaze fondly at the world outside of my window.

The top of the sun is just barely above the horizon now, setting the sky ablaze in a gorgeous array of colors. Each color is bright and pure, from gold to pink and every shade in between. I leave my room on impulse and go outside, feeling compelled to see the sunrise in all its fiery glory. I step onto the soft grass, enjoying the feel of it under my bare feet. All around me there is hope and life.

Flowers are just beginning to bloom, turning the ground so many bright and soft colors. The trees are covered in new buds and young leaves, marking the onset of spring. The cool wind and pristine, clear air are unlike anything I've ever felt before. I look around, reveling in the sounds of the forest. How can the city have so much forest? The thought slips from my mind as I spot a morning glory beginning to open up. I walk over to the little flower, sitting to watch as it unfolds from something small and pale to something truly beautiful.

"I see you are discovering what it means to be an elf." Lord Elrond walks towards me, as quiet as a shadow. I note the brief glance to his right and left as he scans the area. This man or, elf rather, has seen war. Few others would be so cautious in their own home surrounded by such incredible beauty. His eyes shift back to me.

"To an elf, nothing is more beautiful than the world around us. While you are on this quest, have Legolas teach you our ways. When you return, you shall always have a place among us." I smile. Such kind words and hope from such a tired and weary soul. The way he says "when" stands out to me, and I find that I have begun to believe in our quest.

"Thank you, Lord Elrond. I appreciate everything you have done for me during my stay here and I would like to take this chance to thank you one final time before I leave." I stand, turning to face him. A faint smile plays at the corners of his lips and I wonder if maybe, just maybe, he believes in us too. I head back to my room and change into my leather armour, placing the pendant around my neck and tucking it into my shirt. I gather my weapons, sheathing my sword on my left hip and slinging my bow over my shoulder to rest lightly beside my quiver.

I walk to the dining hall and notice that I'm the last one there. I see the hobbits all gathered around one table and Gandalf, Aragorn and Boromir sitting at another. Gimli is with a few other dwarves, and Legolas is alone. I walk over and sit by him.

"Sitting alone?" I ask bluntly, not quite sure what I should say to him. He looks up unfazed, and I suspect he heard me coming. Then again, I made no effort to prevent him from hearing me. Even knowing as little as I do about him, I doubt I could've if I had tried, making the point rather moot.

"It doesn't bother me. Unlike many of the others, I welcome company but do not seek it out." Interesting, as I pictured him as more of the "join the crowd" type. I haven't seen much of him, so I don't have much to go on. Although, soon I'll be seeing a lot more of Legolas. Gandalf, Aragorn and Boromir stand.

"Members of the Fellowship of the Ring, the time has come to leave Rivendell." The rest of us stand and we all leave the dining hall. We say our goodbyes and leave Imladris. Soon, it is but a figure in the distance.

Our quest has begun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Don't Wake Me Up**

**Chapter 4**

**Walking The Line**

I feel almost like a child as I stared at the world around me. The forest is dense and beautiful, surrounding us on all sides. The soothing shades of green and brown are comforting, and it reminds me of home. The smell, however, is different. While the same earthy undertones persist here, the smell of the plants themselves are quite different. It is like nothing I have smelled before. It is floral and tangy, with sweet and earthy undertones similar to pine trees

It rained recently. I can tell by the moist ground and the way our footprints linger as we pass, sinking slightly into the muddy ground. This is where I feel far more comfortable. I notice things that would normally evade my usual level of perception, such as the tiny noises made by the mud and the rustling of the trees, and things like the small marks in the ground that speak of the recent passing of an animal.

"Elsira…" I hear Aragorn call my name softly, getting my attention.

I turn to look at him, quickly realizing that the eyes of Legolas and Gimli are on me as well. The fear of having done something wrong quickly settles in my gut, making me feel anxious.

"Yes?" I ask hesitantly, adjusting my pace to fall into step beside him.

I note the slow rate at which he walks. His muscles appear tensed and he seems to be very on edge. I must have missed something important.

"Draw your sword. Slowly. No sudden movements. Keep walking, remain calm." His orders and softly spoken and perfectly clear, leaving no room for doubt or any misconceptions.

I feel adrenaline quickly making its way through my veins, setting my blood on fire with the nerves I feel. I slowly draw my sword, nervous and tense, trying to stay calm. It's when I look up that I see two very large, very intelligent eyes staring back at me.

I lock eyes with the beast, freezing. I stand, paralyzed with fright by the gleaming, golden eyes that are staring at me intently. My vocal chords aren't functioning right. I can't make a single noise. This massive animal is far larger than any wolf I have ever seen, it's dark brown body barely visible under the foliage in which it conceals itself. I don't see anything save for those dark gold eyes, which burn with an intense hunger and anger.

"Elsira!" Hearing Gandalf shout my name pulls me from my paralysis and I break from the petrifying gaze.

I realize the rest of the group has formed a circle around the four hobbits, and I quickly fall back into it. I don't dare turn my back on the beast, watching it wearily as I step back. It steps out from the underbrush, and looking around I realize there are five others along with it. With colours ranging from reddish brown to black, the large animals are incredibly daunting and reminiscent of the animals I know from home.

I hear the slight twang of bow strings and two arrows lodged themselves deeply a black wolf to my left. It drops, one of the arrows having punctured its heart and I bite back a shriek of terror. The stand off having been broken, the wolves charge forward. The massive reddish wolf before me charges and I felt my heartbeat speed up. Before I have time to think I brought my blade up in a defensive position, blocking the attempted bite before smacking the wolf in the head with the pommel to stun it before driving the blade through its skull with an almost feral growl.

The realization of what I have just done hits me and I stare, barely able to comprehend what I have just done. I stare at the thick red blood that gushes from the wound, and the quivering blade that protrudes from the skull of the beast. I fall back, nauseated by my actions.

I stare at its sightless gold eyes, unable to formulate proper words or thoughts. How can I hope to? What did I just do?

The shriek of a hobbit pulls me back into focus and I turn to see that in my distraction, a wolf had gotten through. I pull the sword from its dead kin with a sickening noise then turn to face the new threat.

The wolf seems to have notice my distraction and lunges, teeth bared. It crashes into me, knocking me down. I manage to hold onto my sword tightly with my right hand during the fall then drive it into the side of the beast. It stiffens before collapsing on top of me. The weight of the animal keeps me pinned, unable to get back up. I watch the rest of the fight from my back, writhing in an attempt to get out from under the corpse.

Aragorn stands before me then. He and Boromir worked together help get the body of the dead wolf off of me. I'm covered in its blood and I find myself nauseated. I crawl away from the thing once they finally free my legs and try to prevent myself from vomiting. I close my eyes tightly and cover my nose, trying to avoid smelling the blood that covers my chest and abdomen.

"You should turn back now. Women have no place out here. This is why." I hear Boromir say coldly.

I look up at him from where I was crouched, and I feel an undeniable anger at his words. I turn, forcing myself to my feet and hoping he can't see the way my legs are shaking. My eyes narrow, and I try to look tougher than I most certainly feel right then and there. Before I can reply, Aragorn steps in.

"That isn't up for debate. If Gandalf thinks she should be here and Lord Elrond agreed with the decision, then I do not think that it is your place to say she should not be here." He says calmly, but with an authoritative tone in his voice.

Boromir cast a glance in Gandalf's direction, not daring to contradict the statement. He turns away, walking ahead of the group without another word.

"Forgive him. In many places, women are not allowed to fight. It is a common view and I ask that you not hold it against him for having it." Aragorn says quietly to me, trying to diffuse the tension forming between Boromir and myself.

The look in his eyes assures me that to persist in my disliking of the man would not be taken well, and that it would end badly for me. I press my lips together, nodding silently. Aragorn's hard expression does not change and he puts a hand on my shoulder before turning and continuing on.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, sighing as I retrieve my blade. The blood begins to dry on my armour and I shake my head, carrying on. The group continues walking, a bit on edge but not injured. I stay behind the hobbits, just far enough back to not be engaged in conversation. I am left alone with my thoughts, which are rampant with doubt and conflict.

Boromir's words replay in my mind and I find myself wondering if perhaps I should go back. I mean, I had killed things before but this was something different. These were large, intelligent animals. I knew I didn't have a choice though. I know it it kill or be killed but I cannot help but hate what I know I have to do. I am going to have to get used to killing if I wanted to make it out here.

I sigh heavily once more, walking along behind the others. Who knew what was right or wrong anymore?

As the sun sinks down towards the horizon we come across a small, surprisingly clear river. There is a small outcropping of rocks near the river as well as some denser trees surrounding it.

"We should camp here for the night. It'll be too dark to continue on soon." Aragorn says.

The hobbits all collapse in various states of exhaustion, delighted by his words. As a group we lay down all our things, taking our armour off to clean it. Two of us always stand by the edge, keeping watch to ensure we are not surprised by anything. The hobbits do not take part in the cleaning; instead sitting and preparing food over a small fire. Gandalf sits off to the side of the group, reading a thick book.

I revel in the feeling of cool water on my skin as I sit at the edge, a bit away from the others. I want more than anything to undress and clean myself properly but I am far too nervous and modest to undress. Even just to my underthings. I content myself in washing my face, feet, and my hands. My hair is still up in a tight braided ponytail so I don't take it down to wash it properly. I am certain I couldn't put it back up if the braids came undone. I've never been overly good at doing my hair.

I close my eyes, enjoying the feeling of the cool water running over my skin. I hear leaves crunch behind me and turn, unarmed but ready for a fight. I see Gimli step forward and look at me with amused eyes.

"Elsira, ya realize we'll make sure yer safe if ya want to bathe proper, lass." He says gruffly. I blush, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks. I force a smile, trying to hide my embarrassment.

"Thank you, Gimli. I won't take long." I reply.

He turns and I head a bit further from the group, knowing they will ensure I am not disturbed. I strip down, removing the sweat and blood soaked clothes. I set them by the edge of the water and then step out into the river. It isn't too deep, only coming just past my navel. It's cool and refreshing, causing chills to run down my spine. I duck down into the water further, submerging myself fully.

I come back up, my hair wet but staying in its tight braids. I splash water onto my face, cleansing myself of sweat. The lazily running water pulls the dirt and sweat from my body as I scrub away the blood that has dried on my skin. As my fingers traverse my abdomen I find scars that I didn't have before. I don't know how I got them and I find myself more than a little confused. However, I doubt the answer will come to me so I continue scrubbing the blood from my skin.

I finish cleaning myself and then slowly work at cleaning my shirt and armour of blood, doing what I can without proper supplies. I scour my clothing, removing as much grime as I am able to. Aside from the blood, which has tinted the thin brown shirt a reddish colour, the clothing was not overly dirty and it is easy enough to clean.

Finally satisfied, I step out of the water and put my underthings back on followed by my light brown undershirt and leather pants. They are still rather wet, but thick enough not to be suggestive or cold. I'd rather the former than the latter however, should it come down to it. Practicality outweighs most everything else out here.

I carry my armour and weapons with me, seeing Aragorn standing patiently to the side, looking away respectfully. His gentlemanly nature makes me blush and I smile, finally a bit more relaxed.

"Thank you Aragorn. I needed that." At my words he turns to look at me, his expression relatively serious, though his lips are turned up in the suggestion of a smile. "Enjoy this while it lasts. It will not occur often."

I nod, knowing that bathing was undoubtedly a luxury out here. I see Gimli and Legolas each heading back to the camp from different spots around where I was bathing and I realize I should thank Legolas as I have thanked Gimli and Aragorn.

Returning to the camp I see that the hobbits have built a small fire, and are gathered around it eating dinner. Boromir is already eating with them, and Gimli quickly acquires food, as if afraid the hobbits will eat it all before he can. Aragorn and I get food next, and it's little more than some dried meat, bread, and fruit. I eat without complaining however, happy just to have food.

The group sits, talking quietly. The hobbits listens as Gimli tells them wild tales that sound as though they must be dwarven legends. The hobbits look as though they are taking every word to heart, with wide eyes and mouths slightly open at the wild tales of battle and ale. Boromir sits and listens with them, occasionally adding in his own stories and input. Aragorn and Gandalf are quietly talking away from the group, and Legolas sits alone. I approach him, as now seems as good a time as any to thank him.

I sit beside him, but quickly find myself loath to break the pleasant silence between us. It's easier when I'm not talking. Then I don't have to worry about messing up or saying something that makes me sound foolish. I know little about this world and I am reminded of it constantly.

"Thank you for keeping an eye out for danger while I bathed." I finally say, having worked up the nerve.

He looks at me for a moment, offering me a small smile and a nod. Hating how painfully awkward I feel in regards to my words and his lack thereof I stand, not wanting him to see the red that is undoubtedly tinting my cheeks.

It's silent as I leave his side. I head under the small rocky alcove, resigning myself to sleep. It's the most productive thing I could do right now. I lay out my bedroll on the clearest place I can find, pulling a light blanket tight around myself despite the warm air around me. I enjoy the heat when I am trying to sleep. I curl up on my side, staring at the dying embers of the dancing flame. No one tends it, instead allowing it to slowly burn out.

My eyes trail across my companions, looking at each one in turn. Aragorn looks older, shadows cast over his rugged and handsome face darkening the small lines already there. Gandalf sits in the shadows as well, though due to the angle at which he sits I cannot see his face. From my angle, I cannot see Boromir or Gimli's faces, though I can see the faces of the hobbits to whom they regale bold tales of adventure. Merry and Pippin both look younger, eyes bright and their faces illuminated by the bright light of the moon. Sam looks troubled, his eyes lingering on the fourth and final hobbit

Frodo looks sick. Staring into the flames, he looks young and lost. I want to comfort him but I know that there is little I can say. I am in a similar place in some ways, as I too am lost in a world that is not my own. I sigh, eyes turning to the other elf of the group.

He sits, eyes scouring the shadows around our little encampment. The moonlight lands on his face, illuminating it in a bright and enchanting way. His eyes catch and reflect the pale light, displaying an icy shade of blue. He is everything I imagine a prince to be, and I find him enchanting to look at.

I lie on my side, eyes tracing and retracing the harder line of his jaw and the softer, yet angular lines of his face. His blonde hair takes on a whitish tinge under the bright light of the moon, which falls dappled across his face due to the trees. I let my eyes drift shut, allowing his image to take the forefront in my mind. It's a nice thought to allow myself to indulge in before sleep.

When I reopen my eyes I am standing at the edge of a cliff, overlooking the sea. The sea is tumultuous, roaring for all to hear as the waves crash against the rocks. I gaze down at the rocks below and find that my vision is somewhat blurred. It's surprisingly hard to see at a distance, and the roar sounds dull and unanimous. I run my fingers through my hair and almost cry out at the surprise I experience. My hair is as it was before I came, and I run my fingers over my ear to find it rounded. I'm as I was before I left, but I'm not home.

I turn away from the sheer cliff face, unnerved by the cacophony of sound exploding from it. As I turn I stiffen in surprise, too shocked to know what to do or say. Several feet behind me stands the blonde woman from my dream. She's wearing spiked steel armour and the sun is setting behind her, making her golden blonde hair look like fire. Her blue eyes stare intently into mine before raking over my form and sizing me up.

"So, Elsira, you aren't quite getting the hang of using your new body yet." Her voice is calculating and the way she looks at me, it's as if I'm a piece of meat she is inspecting.

"I, ah... Excuse me?" I am openly confused and she thinks for a moment on how to explain.

"I am Alessia, a warrior from many years ago. I was slain by Sauron while trying to defend my home and my family from him and his army. He is an older and more powerful creature than you might think. We searched far and wide for the one who would avenge me, and you are who I have chosen. I wanted someone interesting, someone unique. Someone who would stand a chance against all the men, so naturally you had to be from a place where there was equality." The longer she speaks the more confused I become and I struggle to try and figure out what she means.

"But, why me? Why not an actual fighter? Why am I an elf?" The questions that nag at me finally spill forth, and this too she ponders before answering.

"One question at a time, if you would. We'll start with the easy question. You are an elf because most women in Middle Earth are not allowed to fight. Even amongst elves, the most lenient of the races on the topic of gender, the men greatly outnumber the women in combat. You'll have opposition, but you still have a good chance to make it the whole way as an elf." She explains.

It makes sense, answering one of my less important questions.

"But why me? Why am I here?" The questions have been prevalent in my mind for a long time, and I want some answers. I'm sick of feeling like a mistake, like I just came here by accident. If there's a purpose to my being here, I want to know what it is so the knots in my stomach can start to unravel a bit.

"You have been chosen to avenge me by helping to destroy the Ring. You were chosen because of who you are. You are strong, smart, resourceful, vigilant, trustworthy and responsible. You can handle a blade and bow, and have adventure in your heart. That's rare where you're from. I have watched you for a long time, waiting for this day to come. I chose someone from your world because you haven't been raised here. You don't know our tales and heroes, and you don't think like we do." Alessia explains, knocking out one of my more important questions this time.

"Why do I have magic?" I ask, and Alessia turns towards the horizon.

She looks almost guilty and my nerves eat at me.

"Your soul was encased in magic in order to bring you here. It flowed through your body, your mind, and touched every part of you. Not only that, it held you. Magic like that leaves a mark. A dark mark. You were so entwined with it that it became a part of you, and because of that it has the potential to consume you. Most magic wielders interact with the magic of the world. They draw upon a limitless supply to mold and create what they want. You draw upon what is inside you. Over time it will be restored but you must be cautious in its use. If you are reckless, it can and will kill you." The solemn tone in her voice as she turns once more to look at me elicits a bone-chilling fear in me.

"Dawn approaches. You must leave soon." Alessia reaches out, her fingers resting upon my cheek.

"Go." My eyes open and I see Pippin above me, talking ceaselessly about something. I shake my head, trying to wake myself up and sit up. Pippin pulls me to my feet and I stagger, still waking up. My head spins and I feel steady hands on me. I look up to see Aragorn holding me in place. I give him a small smile of gratitude and he nods, understanding my unspoken word of thanks.

"Come, you should eat something before we go." He says, the rich baritone of his voice making me pay close attention to his words. I nod, unable yet to formulate words. He turns me towards the fire, guiding me towards the food with a firm yet gentle hand at my back. I sit down by the fire, taking what is offered to me by Gimli. There's some sausage, a bit of bread and an apple. We all eat quickly, the hobbits nicking food from everyone where they can.

I can't get my dream out of my head. Despite what the woman said, I still feel as though it should have been someone else. My memories are fading once more. I feel like I'm grabbing at sand while it slips through my fingers, leaving me with a sense of anxiety and desperation. My stomach is in knots and I feel an overwhelming fear building within me, and I find that I cannot put my finger on its source.

-Time Skip-

After a long and uneventful day of travel, Sam, Frodo, Gimli, Legolas, Gandalf and I sit around a campfire. It's mid afternoon, and Boromir and Aragorn are trying to teach Merry and Pippin some swordplay. Off to the side, I hear Gandalf and Gimli conversing quietly. I catch small snippets, not quite able to make out all of their words. They are talking about the Mines of Moria, and Gandalf is clearly against it. Gandalf drops the conversation abruptly and walks away.

I watch as Boromir thrusts forwards with his blade, catching Pippin in the hand. Pippin looks outraged, and throws his sword down.

"You'll pay for that! For the Shire!" Pippin leaps on Boromir and tackles him, hitting and kicking him. Merry joins in, helping Pippin here and there. Everyone but Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf laugh at the display. Legolas's eyes are fixed on a wispy black cloud. It's fast moving and erratic, not moving like any cloud I've ever seen before. I turn to watch it, intrigued by the motion.

"What is that?" Asks Sam, noting Legolas and my stares. Boromir's eyes narrow.

"Nothing… It's just a wisp of cloud." Gimli says unconvincingly. I catch occasional flashes of individual movement, making me doubt Gimli's words even more. The pattern looks vaguely familiar, almost like sparrows back home.

"Are those… birds?" I ask quietly. A look of surprise crosses Aragorn's face before quickly morphing into a look of intense concern.

"It's moving fast… Against the wind." Boromir sounds as worried as he looks.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas cries. Aragorn yells "hide" and we all scramble for cover. I dive into a bush, and feel something warm pressed up against me. I turn towards it, and notice that I'm alarmingly close to Legolas. In fact, I'm practically laying on him. I'm about to move away when he wraps an arm around my waist, holding me firmly in place. I breathe in, trying to remain calm.

"Do not move or they will see you." He murmurs into my ear. I do as he says, staying perfectly still despite the unexpected proximity. I focus on my breathing, praying the birds do not see us. What if they already have? We hear the beating of wings and I hold my breath, my eyes closed as I press into Legolas's shoulder.

The noise recedes, and I know that if something were going to happen it would have happened by now. Fears and concerns race through my mind and Legolas touches my cheek. My eyes open and his are solemnly and patiently on mine, like he was waiting.

"Do not let them see your fear. The hobbits do not know you are not from here and if they see fear in any of us, it may cause them to start losing hope. Be brave." He offers me a small smile with his words and I nod, cleansing as much concern from my expression as I can. He nods at me and I see a sort of pride in his eyes. I look away, concerned that I may blush.

After a while, I poke my head out and see the birds receding in the distance. I sit up and Legolas lets me go, the warmth of his body no longer against mine.

Legolas leaps agilely to his feet and then reaches down, offering to help me up. I take his hand and he pulls me up and we are, once again, closer than is really necessary. My heart is racing and my stomach does a little flip. His expression is perfectly neutral and he turns towards the group. I look away, a bit ashamed that I felt anything from something like that. I start walking back to the campfire, willing my face to return to normal. Everyone else is already there.

"Spies of Saruman. The passage south is being watched… We must take the pass of Carahdras!" Gandalf says, gesturing towards a mountain path. Gimli glowers at Gandalf, who takes the glare in stride. I grimace, the tension nearly tangible. This is going to be a longer journey than I thought.

-Time Skip-

We've been climbing for an hour now, trudging our way through the snow and I am absolutely delighted. The world around me is whitewashed, my companions are dragging behind me, and I couldn't be happier. It's absolutely beautiful up here. The air is clean and crisp, and the bitter chill is warded off by a warmth spell. I run along the top of the snow, scouting out the area to inform them of large drifts or dips up ahead and directing them. They sink into the snow but I, along with Legolas, am able to run lightly atop it without breaking the hardened top layer.

I slow down in my run, just taking in the world. The light grey of the sky, the jagged grey and white peaks of the mountain, and the perfectly white world around me. It is like a scene from a movie and I find that it is absolutely perfect. Loving a place like this, so barren and lifeless, may not be the most elf-y thing to do, but I'm not fully an elf so I don't remotely care.

I look back at my companions, a broad smile on my lips, only to see Frodo stumble. Glee turns to a sickening sense of dread as he begins to tumble and roll down the slope. I run at him, breaking into a full sprint but Aragorn beats me there, stopping the hobbit. He helps Frodo right himself, sitting him up.

"Are you alright?" He asks, his hand on Frodo's shoulder. Frodo puts a hand to his throat, looking up at Aragorn with a look of horror. The Ring isn't there. He looks around, panicked when I note a small gleam off to my left. I turn, though once again someone has beaten me to it. Boromir is crouched by the fallen ring, picking it up to examine it.

"Such a small thing…"

I can almost feel the Ring's hold on him and glance over at Legolas, who nods. He can sense it as well. I give Aragorn a worried look though his eyes remain fixed on Boromir.

"Boromir…" Aragorn's voice is cautious and questioning. Boromir remains entranced.

"Such a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over such a small thing… Such a little thing." He trails off, his eyes never leaving the ring.

Aragorn pauses, contemplating.

"Boromir, give the ring back to Frodo." His voice is quiet, but thick with underlying meaning.

Boromir tenses, his focus drawn into the Ring as he stares intently at the golden band. His eyes drift up from it, drawing his attention from the Ring to Frodo. He shrugs, handing the Ring to Frodo as if it were meaningless.

"As you wish, I care not." Boromir's words are shallowly spoken, each member of the group understanding that he cares very much about the possible fates of the Ring.

I try to uphold faith in him, knowing that he must understand the importance of our quest to the world. Mustn't he?

I fall back, walking alongside the broody human. He forces his way through the dense snow, eyes down and a scowl set upon his lips. The severity that marks his face shows me that he knows the mental war he's fighting, and he knows that it isn't going well. I walk beside him, not sure of what to say.

"What do you want?" He asks briskly.

"Boromir, you know yourself best, but I know that as a warrior you could overpower Frodo quickly and the Ring will attempt to drive you to do this. It could drive any of us to do this. Be careful. Please. None of us save Frodo can bear this burden. Even if it helped your people we both know that-" He turns to look at me, glaring as I speak.

"Enough. I do not need my ego fed before being scolded as though I were some child. I know what it is and I know what it does. Know your place before you tell me mine, woman." He quickly moves past, leaving me standing there slack jawed staring after him.

That was low. He bypassed my race completely and attacked my gender.

"Don't take it personally. He isn't a bad man he just has a bit more pride than he needs." Aragorn says from beside me. I jump, not having heard the ranger approach. I turn to look at him, trying to find a way to justify myself. He lays a hand on my shoulder, quieting me.

"I know what you want to say, but know that despite his harsher exterior he knows what is right. He is afraid for himself and his people and so are we all. This is just how he is trying to cope. Give him space. He'll come around. He just needs to accept what he is facing right now." Aragorn explains.

I nod, falling silent instead of trying to argue his logic. He gestures up the slope of the mountain and I get the hint, once more walking up the steep and snowy terrain.

We walk under a tall, snowy overpass. The snow and ice hang low and I look around for any threats or weak spots. Knowing that I most likely won't be able to see them I slow down, my steps more cautious now. I hear a faint noise on the wind and I look up, trying to figure out where it came from. I stop moving, listening.

"There is a fell voice in the air." Legolas says urgently.

So that's what that was. Judging by everyone's reaction, that's not good.

"It's Saruman." Gandalf says, irritation in his voice. Judging by his tone he really does not like Saruman. I hear a rumble, and snow and rocks start to fall, tumbling down the mountain.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain. Gandalf! We must turn back!" Aragorn cries, urgency in his voice.

He's right; we can't stay here like this.

"NO!" Gandalf yells. He raises his staff and chants into the wind.

The mountain rumbles once more, sending more rock and snow cascading down the mountain. I hear the voice clearly now, and know that it's Saruman's. Huge black clouds form overhead, and then lightning strikes the mountain. Boromir pulls Gandalf to safety, and Aragorn shields Frodo and Sam. Legolas pulls me back against the cliff face, and snow crashes down all around us.

I close my eyes tight, afraid to open them for fear of what I'll see. I feel a light touch on my shoulder, and peek out. Legolas and I are ok. I look around, and see Frodo, Sam, Gandalf and Gimli standing to the side, while Boromir and Aragorn dig through the snow, trying to find the hobbits. They pull them out, and the hobbits are shivering and terrified. We all gather, reassessing our current course.

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city." Boromir says animatedly.

"The gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard." Aragorn replies solemnly.

Boromir frowns a bit at that, but he does not argue.

"We cannot pass over the mountain. Let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria." Gimli suggests hopefully.

Gandalf looks concerned, and I wince at the mere mention of it. I've always been a bit claustrophobic. The thought of having a few tons of rock sitting right over my head just doesn't please me in any way.

"Let the ring bearer decide." Gandalf says firmly.

I glance towards Frodo, who looks concerned. I can tell he doesn't like making such decisions. He looks at Pippin and Merry, who are shivering violently in Boromir and Aragorn's arms. He looks back over at Gandalf, weighing his possibilities.

"Frodo?" Gandalf asks quietly, seeming to already know the answer.

"We will go through the mines." Frodo says quietly. Gimli immediately perks up. Gandalf nods wearily.

"So be it."


End file.
